Candied Haws

The following morning,

In the westernmost part of the capital,

Along the east-west market street, a vibrant array of shops lined both sides of the cobblestone path, their goods dazzling the eye with their sheer abundance.

The air of the early morning buzzed with the ceaseless clamor of vendors hawking their wares and customers haggling over prices.

“Shopkeeper, how much are these candied hawthorns?”

Standing before a snack stall, Shangguan Qiūyuè, clad in a plain white dress, pointed at a straw target bristling with candied hawthorns, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Beside her stood a man in a black brocade robe, her cousin, Shangguan Ce.

He had been assigned to protect Shangguan Qiūyuè.

“Didn’t you hear my sister say she wants candied hawthorns?” Shangguan Ce’s voice was slow and deliberate.

With a sudden, forceful kick, he sent the slender young boy accompanying them stumbling.

“Why are you just standing there? Pay up…”

Yún Mù, who had just pulled out some copper coins, was caught off guard and sent sprawling, the coins scattering from his grasp to clatter across the ground.

“You dog s*ave, you couldn’t possibly think I’d treat you like Qiūyuè does, could you?” Shangguan Ce sneered, looking down at him. He reached out to grab the boy’s hair, but a small hand pulled him back.

“Shangguan Ce! What do you think you’re doing!” Shangguan Qiūyuè did not address him as ‘cousin,’ but rather by his full name.

Seizing the moment while he was stunned, the young girl bent down to help the boy up, only to have her arm seized once more.

“Little sister, are you truly going to help this ‘scum’ (TL Note: The original text uses a censored character, implying an offensive term) in the middle of the street?”

Shangguan Ce lowered his voice, his gaze sweeping over the growing crowd that had begun to gather, drawn by the spectacle.

“I…!”

Shangguan Qiūyuè faltered, stung by their gazes, but in the next instant, she forcefully shook off his hand.

In her heart, Yún Mù was a hundred times more important than this so-called ‘face.’

On the muddy ground, Yún Mù endured the sharp pain in his thigh, curling his body as he painstakingly fumbled for each scattered copper coin. Dust soiled his sleeves and clung to his bony knees.

Just as he reached for the last few coins, a soft, pale hand gently clasped his wrist.

He looked up in surprise, meeting Shangguan Qiūyuè’s anxious and concerned gaze.

“Get up, we don’t need the rest of them.” The young girl gently held Yún Mù’s arm, pulling slightly to help him rise, but he pulled away. “Xiaomu (TL Note: A diminutive, affectionate term for Yún Mù), what are you doing? The ground is so dirty, and they’re just a few copper coins. Please, let’s just leave them, okay?”

Yún Mù merely shook his head, his hand still fumbling across the ground. He picked up the remaining copper coins, not uttering a single word.

The young boy vividly remembered that in his childhood, a few copper coins could buy a small bag of rice. Though not much, it was enough to make thin porridge that would warm the bellies of his family for a day. These were not merely coins; they were sustenance.

Under the varied gazes of the onlookers, the patched-up boy silently continued his task until the very last copper coin was securely clutched in his palm. Only then did he slowly push himself up, carefully rubbing the dust-laden coins clean against his clothes before offering them to Shangguan Qiūyuè.

“Miss… here, for your candied hawthorns.”

Gazing at the boy’s dust-smeared yet clear eyes, all the scolding words Shangguan Qiūyuè had intended to utter caught in her throat.

“Alright… thank you…”

She took the money, turned, and bought the largest string of candied hawthorns. Just as she was about to purchase another one for Yún Mù, the whispers around her pierced her heart like needles.

“Look, isn’t that young Miss Shangguan? Is she disciplining her servant?”

“Hmph, what’s so rare about a prominent family beating or scolding a s*ave? Didn’t the Zhang family on the front street beat one to death right there? Mind your own business…”

The buzzing whispers grew, unsettling her deeply. Looking down at the crimson, glistening candied hawthorns in her hand, their vivid, blood-like color inexplicably churned her stomach, leaving her breathless.

“Clatter—”

With a sharp crack, the candied hawthorns slipped from her grasp and plummeted. Their crystalline sugar shell shattered on the bluestone, scattering in dusty fragments that rolled far away.

“Miss, quickly, drink my blood…”

Yún Mù instinctively started forward, but Shangguan Ce roughly shoved him aside.

“Get lost, don’t touch her!” Shangguan Ce, using his Star Power (TL Note: A common power system in web novels, often referring to a spiritual or elemental energy), caught his swaying sister. “Qiūyuè? Qiūyuè! What’s wrong? Don’t scare me!” His face was etched with worry, yet his hands dared not touch her, fearing he might incur some responsibility.

The young girl’s lips trembled slightly, her voice coming out in broken whispers.

“Mmm… I… I’m fine…”

Before she could finish, her body suddenly began to tremble violently. Two striking crimson lines, without any warning, slowly trickled from the corners of her tightly closed eyes.

By then, the young girl had already fallen into a deep unconsciousness.

‘Damn it… why is this short-lived girl acting up again? If I don’t get her back quickly and something happens, the family head will surely hold me accountable.’

Shangguan Ce’s heart tightened. He shot a vicious glare at Yún Mù on the ground, then, without another word, enveloped the unconscious Shangguan Qiūyuè in his Star Power, lifting her into the air. He left behind only five cold words that seemed to echo on the ground: “Crawl back yourself!” With that, his figure darted away, vanishing at the end of the long street in the blink of an eye.

“Are they gone…?” Yún Mù murmured, watching the direction where the cousins had disappeared. “If she goes home… no, if she returns to the manor, Miss should be alright.”

After a moment of silence, he slowly bent down, picking up the string of candied hawthorns, now mostly shattered and covered in dust. He carefully gathered the scattered, relatively intact pieces, wiped them with the corner of his sleeve, and tucked them securely into his embrace.

“Hey, you stinky little… uh, young man,” the candied hawthorn vendor leaned over his stall, propping himself on his elbows, a hint of mockery on his face. “Why are you picking up something so filthy, like a mud-ball? Could your young miss possibly still eat that?”

“For Miss? She… she won’t want it anymore…” Yún Mù’s voice was wooden.

“Huh? Then why are you picking it up? This dusty handful, are you going to eat it yourself?” The vendor found it even stranger.

Yún Mù merely shook his head again.

The vendor clicked his tongue, his face a mask of confusion. “How odd. You won’t eat it, your miss won’t eat it, so are you going to feed it to stray dogs or cats? Really…” He waved his hand dismissively, a trace of impatience in his gesture. “Alright, alright, move along. Don’t block my business.”

“Understood, my apologies…” Yún Mù replied obediently, turning to leave.

Yet, this meek obedience inexplicably ignited a spark of irritation in the vendor. Watching the boy’s frail figure, so thin it seemed the wind might carry him away, he slapped his forehead in annoyance. “Tsk! Damn it!” He couldn’t help but shout, “Hey! You, up ahead! I’m talking to you! Get back here!”

The angry shout clearly made the figure ahead stiffen.

Yún Mù slowly turned around, a hint of confusion in his eyes, and pointed to himself.

“If not you, then who? How many pathetic brats like you are there on this street? Get your ass over here!”

“…Alright.” Yún Mù complied, walking back.

Seeing his submissive demeanor, the vendor’s initial irritation instantly flared into anger. He snatched a freshly coated string of candied hawthorns and dangled it before Yún Mù.

“Listen, kid, curse me a bit, or… kick me once.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice with a challenging tone. “As long as you dare, this new string is yours, and I won’t charge you a cent.” Seeing Yún Mù remain silent, eyes cast down, the vendor grew anxious. “Don’t worry, I always keep my word. If I say it’s free, it’s free. Isn’t a free gift a good deal?”

“My master taught me not to accept food given in contempt (TL Note: A Chinese idiom, ‘bushi jielaizhishi,’ meaning to refuse charity or anything given with disdain), so I cannot take your candied hawthorns.” Yún Mù replied calmly.

“Huh? You brat!” The vendor was momentarily stunned by the boy’s formal words, then grew angry again. “You were like a silent gourd just now, and now you’re spouting all these grand principles? I don’t understand! Hurry up, this offer won’t last forever!” (TL Note: “guole zhe cun ke mei zhe dian le” is an idiom meaning ‘this village won’t have this shop,’ implying a limited-time opportunity.)

Yún Mù bowed slightly to the vendor. “Thank you for your kindness, but I must go.”

“Damn it all!” The vendor watched the boy, cradling his pile of broken hawthorns, turn to leave, completely ignited by his unyielding attitude. “Are you carved from elm wood or just simple-minded? Treating your dead master’s nonsense like a sacred decree? Refusing free benefits? Isn’t this just pure foolishness? Your master, goddammit…!”

“Don’t you dare curse my master!” The always-silent Yún Mù spun around abruptly, a clear spark of anger igniting in his eyes for the very first time. Though faint, it was exceptionally resolute.

The vendor was taken aback by this sudden defiance. “Ho? Got some temper now? What are you looking at? Disagree? Then come hit me! Hit me! After you hit me, this string is still yours! What a bargain, huh!?”

“I said, don’t you dare curse my master!” Yún Mù’s voice abruptly rose, his body subtly shifting towards the vendor, veins bulging on his hands. Yet, he still held the dust-covered candied hawthorns protectively to his chest.

“You little…” The vendor instinctively wanted to retort, but a glance revealed a circle of onlookers had already gathered.

Only then did he realize his impulsiveness, swallowing the rest of his curse words.

‘Damn! I was so focused on provoking this kid, I forgot we’re still on the street.’

Mentally cursing himself for his foolishness, his expression shifted several times before he quickly walked closer to Yún Mù.

First, he cast a complex gaze, sweeping up and down Yún Mù. Then, he suddenly bent down and whispered in the boy’s ear, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, my mouth was foul just now. I shouldn’t have spoken ill of your master…” Straightening up, he impatiently waved his hand at the onlookers, shouting, “What are you looking at? What are you looking at? What’s so interesting!? Haven’t you ever seen an argument? Break it up, all of you, get out of here! Don’t hold up my business!”

Seeing his fierce demeanor, the crowd chuckled a few times before reluctantly dispersing.

The vendor watched as everyone left, then let out a heavy, deflated sigh.

He scratched the back of his head, then looked up to watch the frail, receding figure in the morning light, his brows furrowed as if confronted by some monumental problem.

“What in the world is going on…” he mumbled, letting out another long sigh. He looked down at the lonely string of candied hawthorns in his hand, and finally spat forcefully onto the ground. “Pah! Truly damnably strange! Who knows what pitiful quality the Empress  saw in this kid? He looks softer than my hawthorn stick!”

Shaking his head in utter bewilderment, he irritably bit into the largest, reddest hawthorn at the top of the candied string. The sweet and sour burst in his mouth, followed by a faint, pale white light subtly swirling around him. Yet, even this could not dispel the inexplicable frustration weighing on his heart.

Ultimately, the vendor could only sigh once more, as if trying to exhale all this unbidden vexation.

“Forget it, why am I bothering with such idle worries? This rotten business today is fate, and that thing not being given away is also his fate! As for me, I’ll just keep selling my candied hawthorns; that’s my damn fate too…!”

With a resigned shrug, he put on his usual shrewd, mercantile air and began to shout his wares, his voice booming and instantly drowning out the recent unpleasantness.

“Candied—Haw—Thorns——! Big and sweet, if it’s not sweet, you don’t pay! Get your rock sugar hawthorns here—!”